Favourites
by NettieC
Summary: Our favourite Navy pilot lawyer lets us in on a few of his very favourite things...and how he and a certain marine solved the 4% problem.


Disclaimer: They don't belong to me...wish they did.

AN: Written as a challenge piece for HBX

Favourites

This is my favourite part of the day...well, one of my favourite parts anyway. Once again, my beautiful wife has woken me in a way I find more than satisfying. By the time I can fully manage to open my eyes she is laying naked on top of me, slowly moving in her own rhythm. I once told her, early in our marriage, that she could take me anytime, anywhere she pleases and she does, regularly. She said I could do the same, however, the first time I tried to wake her in such a manner I ended up with a black eye and a bruised testicle thanks to her sharp reflexes and sound marine training, so, you'll understand that I have never tried again. Still, I have no complaints in being woken this way and smile as Mac begins placing kisses up and down my jaw.

Morning sex with my gorgeous wife is always slow and sensual and always amazingly delightful. There's never a rush, or a sense of urgency, just a simple easy pleasure to greet the new day with. Early dawn encounters are always on her terms and that's something I am more than happy to live with. Mac sets the pace, the style, the duration and I just go along for the ride, so to speak. Strangely enough, we never speak during these encounters, saving our words and declarations for when we've finished. I don't know if it makes it more of a spiritual encounter but aside for some humming on Mac's behalf, these morning moments are enjoyed in near silence.

We only ever make love once in the mornings as the encounters are long and leisurely and more than fulfilling. Night times ... ahhh ... night times are a different story and another favourite of mine.

Night times are the times where I usually take the lead. Our encounters can be fast and frenzied and fairly frequent. What we lack in pace in the morning is made up for at night and on many occasions we haven't made it to the bedroom preferring to share the experience in whichever room we may be, on or against any surface which is convenient. Although these days it's more often than not the bed; I'm not as young as I used to be.

During the night time encounters we declare our love and talk throughout. I found out early on that Mac likes to be ah...instructive ... as we make love, she also has a penchant for some rather unladylike talk; not that I'd ever describe it to her that way. After all, she's already called me a prude on more than one occasion and I don't want to give her anymore proof of it being correct. I had thought myself quite liberal when it came to sex; after all, I had quite a reputation with the ladies in my younger days. Thing is, Mac had seen through all that bravado...or maybe bullshit is a more apt word...and makes me go outside my comfort zone in all sorts of ways during sex. Well, just to clarify, she doesn't make me, I am a more than willing participant, I guess I'm just a little more reserved than she is in that aspect of our relationship...not that I'll admit it to her...ever!

The first time we made love Mac was rather vocal and I was quite taken aback. The more things progressed, the more vocal she became and the more panicked I got. Just as she was about to reach her peak I froze and rather than a descriptive monologue of what I could do to please her, peppered with a few choice words, she came to a standstill too and studied my face. Eventually, she whispered, "Breathe."

And I did...sometimes she still has to remind me.

Anyway, you may wonder why I am thinking about these things as my wife writhes on top of me. Well, very early in our marriage, well, actually, a week after our engagement at McMurphy's, I attended Mac's OBGYN appointment with her. We had decided that as neither of us was getting any younger we would start looking at our reproductive options as soon as possible. Her OBGYN referred us to a reproductive therapist and within a week we were sitting in front of a complete stranger being put on a reproductive schedule.

Now, I am a very private person and was totally unprepared for the intrusion seeing this sort of therapist would bring. In the course of the two hour session, she had inquired about and revised what I ate, how I slept, the exercise I did, how and when we had sex and the underwear I wore. We walked out with a new daily schedule which I had readily agreed to, willing to do anything for Mac, and for us ... and the hope of a baby.

We had then spent the next eight months following the daily schedule to the letter. Making love was off the agenda, replaced by scheduled sex in line with Mac's cycle. Now, I know I'm not the most romantic guy in the world but in the early stages of any relationship sexual spontaneity is a main feature and I missed it. Still, I sucked it up for the greater good and continued with the schedule.

But then I had come home early one afternoon to check on Mac who had herself gone home early unwell, I was greeted by a sobbing wreck and an assortment of tampons and pads which had been thrown across the bathroom by my very distressed wife. It seemed her period had arrived and she was devastated.

Another month of doing everything correctly, of sacrificing love for sex, of changing her diet, her lifestyle and her thinking was all for nothing...again.

Scooping her up off the bathroom floor and into my lap, I held and kissed her as the pain and disappointment of another fruitless month engulfed her. For over an hour I sat with her, even after her tears had subsided and her breathing had calmed, I held her close. Finally, she went to speak but I pressed my finger to her lips and shook my head. I wanted to go first.

"You know how much I absolutely love and adore you, don't you?" I checked and she nodded. "Well, I think we need to rethink what we're doing," I continued and stroked her cheek as her eyes filled with tears once more. "I don't want to give up but I think we should give ourselves a month off and use the time to just be us for a bit. What do you think?" I removed my finger and Mac took a deep breath.  
"I think you are right," she said quietly. "Can we maybe get a way for a couple of weeks?"  
"To anywhere you want, gorgeous," I replied, prepared to take her to the ends of the earth.

So we did; spent two weeks in Jamaica, days relaxing on the beach or mingling with the locals and evenings in our villa where romance and intimacy abounded.

It was there we established our lazy morning love making and our more boisterous night time activities. After we returned to DC we continued, enjoying who we were on our own schedule. It was six weeks later that Mac spoke for the first time during the early hours, muttering 'fuck' when she couldn't climax like usual. I didn't think anything more of it though, just helped her out and all was well.

A week later at our regular OBGYN appointment, well, Mac's appointment obviously, I was just a regular guest, and a routine blood test showed Mac was pregnant and with dates and all, it seemed out Jamaican retreat had done the trick. Seven months later we were blessed with Charlie, a little earlier than we expected but healthy and perfect and just breathtakingly amazing.

It was about thirteen months later when Mac uttered the same word at the same time and my mind instantly went to Charlie. Was it possible this was a sign of another pregnancy? It was, and along came Andy. Just as healthy and perfect and amazing. Andy was a few days overdue and seems to be spending his time making up for it.

I've often looked at my boys, as they grow together, and marvelled at how the two can be such polar opposites. Charlie is so relaxed and chilled. Nothing fazes him. He was a dream baby, going to bed easily, sleeping through the night and waking refreshed and willing to face the challenges of the day. Andy, on the other hand is a dynamo; never in the same place for more than a minute. Andy seems to run on Energizer batteries and once those batteries run out he crashes until morning by which time he has recharged and has boundless energy once more.

Mac and I often joke that it's not hard to tell at which time of day each boy was conceived. Charlie was obviously a morning conception, while Andy has to have been an evening one.

Oh, so getting back to now. I usually allow my mind to drift as Mac works above me. If I was to actually concentrate on what she was doing things could quite possibly be over in minutes. This way, I get to think of all things Mac, savour the moment and save myself for when I'm needed most...can you see why it's a favourite time?

I have never mentioned Mac's utterances to her and she doesn't know it yet but on the bathroom counter is an early pregnancy test kit with a little note from me. You see, yesterday she muttered it again.

I know it's going to make life more than interesting having three children under four but I'm sure we are more than ready to undertake the job. After all, our baby deal was made fourteen years ago, so really, we are just making up for lost time.

As Mac's breathing changes I focus my energy and thoughts back onto her and within minutes our releases are complete and she is slumped on me, catching her breath. Slowly, I stroke her back as I kiss her head.

"Love you," I say as I press another kiss to her crown.

"Love you," she replies, kissing my chest.

Quite content to lie there all day, I know I can't. There are things to do.

Slowly, Mac peels herself off me and heads to the bathroom. I watch her bare butt disappear into the bathroom and think all sorts of things to myself; some relating to her six but mostly about the test by the sink. Before I can elaborate on those thoughts the monitor springs to life beside the bed and stirs me from my ramblings.

Climbing out the bed I shrug on my robe and tie it. Padding out I stop at the boys' bedroom and kiss them good morning. Andy, as always, is jumping up and down at the end of his crib while Charlie is just lying in his bed stretching and smiling at me.

Scooping them both up I carry them to the kitchen, revealing in the feel of my sons in my arms. My sons...never thought it would happen.

Now, if it turns out we are pregnant again, I wonder if it will be a case of 'My Three Sons' or whether we'll have a girl...a daddy's girl, in the image of her gorgeous and incredible mother.

It's Saturday so it's pancakes for breakfast and Charlie is a great help stirring the batter; l think he makes less mess than his mother. Soon, I have the table set and the boys seated and ready. When Mac hasn't reappeared in her usual time I start to suspect there is something wrong.

Deciding to go ahead and feed the boys, I prepare and place pancakes in front of them before heading towards the bedroom.

Two strides from the door and Mac appears with the note in one hand, the stick in the other and tears streaming down her face.

"It's positive," she whispers, waving it at me. "How did you know?" she asks, raising the note.

"Intuition," I say as I open my arms.

She laughs and I know she doesn't believe me but there's time for that later.

"I love you very much, mommy," I say as I lower my head to hers.

"I love you very much, daddy," she replies, pushing up on her tiptoes to seal the kiss.

The kiss is long and deep and passionate and interrupted by Andy's squeals for 'panpakes'.

"Panpakes sound good," Mac says as she snuggles into my side and we walk back into the kitchen.

"With lemon and sugar?" I ask and she nods her eyes fixed on the stick.

"Momma!" Andy calls and she slips the stick into her pocket before hugging and kissing both her boys.

"My three sons or daddy's girl?" she says as I put her plate in front of her.

I smile at how easily she can read my mind. "Do you have a preference?" I counter.

"I love our boys but a little girl would be precious," she says as she steals a kiss.

"I agree," I say, kissing her back.

Whichever way it goes I know it will work out, how could it not? I waited forty years to find my soul mate...well, I waited thirty years to find her, ten to get my head out of my six and now, our five years together have been amazingly perfect.

Once, Mac was told she had less than a 4% chance of conceiving, well, we've certainly beaten those odds. She has spent her whole life beating challenges and it is my honour and privilege to now be allowed to stand alongside her and face the challenges together.

"Love daddy," Charlie says as he climbs into my lap and wraps his honey covered hands around my neck and I smile.

This is another favourite part of the day.

"Love dada, love dada," Andy joins in, waving his arms around so I'll pick him up. Mac does it for me and settles him on my lap too.

Within a minute I'm covered in a hundred sticky kisses and hugs and I'm in my element.

Mac stands and for a minute I think she's going to clear the dishes, something that can definitely wait but instead she grabs the camera and takes a few snaps of me with the boys. I already know those photos will end up in my favourites folder on my computer. I grin to myself; I have just over 3000 photos on my computer from this last year alone. 2768 are in my favourites.

I don't know whether I am using the word incorrectly but I don't care. Finally, my life is filled with a million favourite moments and I plan on ensuring the rest of my life, our life, is spent exactly the same way.


End file.
